The Walk-In
by PsandQs
Summary: Takes place directly after episode 5.4. A walk-in brings information about a terror attack on British soil, and alleges that there is a mole in MI5. It sets in motion a chain of events that threatens to destroy everything Harry has worked for and holds dear.
1. Chapter 1

The pre-dawn air was bitingly cold, and he stamped his feet as he waited and watched. From his vantage point he could see both the front and side entrances into the imposing building, and he took careful note of the traffic going in and out. The information provided to him about the blind spots of the cctv cameras must have been accurate; otherwise he would long since have had a visit from one of the security men with firm advice to move along. He had been there for over two hours now, and the cold had seeped right into his marrow. London was in for a cold winter, if it were like this in the middle of October. The smell of the river came to him on the slight breeze, damp and salty – the tide must be coming in. Somewhere to his right Big Ben chimed the hour, and right on cue a black Lexus drew up to the front entrance and a sturdily built, blond-haired man with a receding hairline got out of the back and strode inside. It had just gone seven, and Harry Pearce was already at work. The poor bugger obviously had no life outside of this building. He would give the man half an hour to settle in before making his move. Time seemed to slow down now that the hour was almost upon him, and he wondered what fate would await him inside that building. Would it be salvation, or would it be damnation? There was so much riding on this; he could not fail.

At last it was time, and he took a few deep breaths in preparation of stepping across the street. But that was when he saw the face. He never forgot faces, and he knew this one. He knew it very well. He watched as the person hurried into the building, concern growing inside him. This was a serious complication, with the potential to derail everything. He stood rooted to the spot, weighing his options, before he withdrew back into the alley. This decision needed to be taken higher up.

- 0 –

_Two hours later_

As Harry walked into the meeting room, his eyes automatically sought out Ruth. Despite everything that had happened between them, the reaction was as natural as breathing to him and he was powerless to stop it. Her dark head was bowed over her papers and she did not meet his eye; perhaps similarly aware that he would seek her out upon entry. He suppressed a sigh. Things were awkward, how could they not be? There were good reasons why bosses were not encouraged to date their subordinates, but he had not heeded these. Emboldened by Juliet's encouragement, he had asked Ruth out, and now they were both paying the price. He was miserable, but more importantly he had put her in an untenable position, and that was unforgivable. She would have to endure endless speculation and rumour-mongering because of one selfish act on his part, one deluded moment in which he had thought that it would be all right simply because he loved her.

"Begin," he barks as he takes his seat, painfully aware of the conspiratorial look that passes between Jo and Zaf. They all knew the reason for his bad mood, unfortunately.  
Adam roused himself from his own pit of misery, where women continually died in his arms. "Where's Ros?"  
"Counter-surveillance training course in Devon," Harry responded shortly.  
Adam frowned. "Surely she did that course whilst in Six," he said, the blue eyes focussed on his boss intently. He might be an emotional wreck, but he was no fool.  
"We can all do with a refresher every now and then," Harry snapped, a dangerous edge creeping into his voice. "The spook who thinks he knows everything will soon be a dead spook."  
Adam stared at him for a beat, before wisely moving on. "Zaf, any results from the Abdullah surveillance?"  
As Zaf made his report, Harry glanced at Ruth to find her eyes firmly on him. She was no fool either. After witnessing Ros screaming accusations at him two nights ago, she knew why the newest member of the team was on that training course. It was probably cowardly of him to ship her off like that for a few weeks, but he simply did not have the emotional energy to deal with her anger over her father's long sentence. He had enough on his hands, what with Adam's fragility, the team still mourning Colin's death – Malcolm in particular - and Juliet still in hospital and possibly crippled for life. And Ruth, always Ruth. He did not need Ros in the mix as well, fomenting discord with her abrasive personality. A little distance would do everyone good, allow feelings to settle down.

"So, in short, we have nothing," Zaf concluded glumly.  
"Apart from persistent rumours that an attack is imminent," Harry pointed out.  
"Vague rumours," Adam countered, and Harry sensed immediately where they were going with this.  
"We are _not_ pulling the surveillance on Abdullah," he said decisively. "It is the only clue we have, however vague and tenuous, and we will follow it for all it is worth-"  
"One mention of his name in an intercept is so tenuous a link as to be almost non-existent," Adam interrupted with a hint of impatience. "We don't have the resources, especially if you insist on keeping Ros on that waste of time of a course."  
"Then pray tell, Adam," Harry said icily, "where you would rather direct our meagre resources? Because from where I'm sitting, there is no alternative."  
Adam's eyes flashed mutinously, but before he could respond, Ruth stepped into the breach. "I've done some more digging on Abdullah."

She looked around the room, making sure she had everyone's attention, before finally settling on Harry. He gave a slight nod, so she continued. "He is often referred to as _Rumha_. It means 'spear', and it's a term used to describe men responsible for protecting the Islamic faith."  
She was warming to her task and Harry's heart lurched. This was one of the many reasons why he had fallen for her – the way her face lit up and her eyes shone with enthusiasm when she had found a piece of the puzzle.  
"Doesn't automatically make him a terrorist," Zaf pointed out, willingly providing a foil for her. "Violence isn't the only way to protect the faith."  
"No, of course not. But when I tracked back through the intercepts I found another three referring to the _Rumha_."  
She pointed the remote at the screen and the three translated messages appeared:

_Rumha received goods. Everything is ready._

_Go to the Rumha, he will provide all you need._

_As Rumha blesses you here on earth, Allah will reward those who slays his enemies thousandfold in heaven._

They stared at the words in grim silence.  
"I have been trying to get a meeting with our tame Imam since yesterday, and he finally agreed to see me this morning," Ruth continued, glancing at her watch. "I should probably get going before he changes his mind again."  
Harry pursed his lips and considered. They had managed to blackmail one of the prominent Muslim clerics into cooperating with them, after the man had been caught in a flagrant position with a woman that was not his wife. But he was a reluctant asset at the best of times, and Harry wasn't sure whether the man could be trusted. Some instinct told him that the Imam was liable to turn on them one day.  
"Take Zaf with you," he ordered. "Now-"  
The door slid open and Harry swung round, a scowl on his face. One of the security men stood there. "Pardon me, Mr Pearce," he said hurriedly after taking in Harry's annoyed expression, "but we have a walk-in."  
Harry grunted impatiently. "We get deluded people who walk in here and claim they are Russian spies every day," he said and glared at the man in the door.  
The man stood his ground, uncomfortably shifting from foot to foot. "Yes sir, but this one's different."  
Harry lifted an eyebrow and waited.  
The security officer cleared his throat. "He's a Muslim, and claims to have information about an imminent terror attack on Britain. He also," he took a breath and steadied himself, "claims to have information about an MI5 mole providing assistance to the terrorists."

- 0 –

Harry watched on the monitor outside the Interrogation Room as a security officer asked the walk-in a few basic questions. The man readily provided his name and address, and as he talked, Harry's gaze flicked between his face, his hands and his legs. Not a twitch.  
Adam slid open the door behind him and strode in. He handed Harry a folder.  
"Misbah Asif," he said, his eyes settling on the monitor. "He's not been on our radar for any radical activity. But," he paused to turn and look at Harry, "he is a member of Abdullah's mosque."  
Harry said nothing, merely frowned slightly. They watched the monitor in silence for a while, until Harry eventually said, "He's very calm."  
"Yes," Adam said, and their eyes met. They were both thinking it – the man was too calm.  
"Tell Malcolm and Ruth to pull his life apart," he instructed, handing the folder back to Adam. As he turned to leave, Asif suddenly raised his voice.  
"Let's stop wasting time. A terror attack will be launched on Britain within this week, and one of your people is helping them."  
The security officer remained calm. "Give us a name, then."  
Asif shook his head. "I don't have a name, but she used to work for GCHQ before transferring to MI5 a few years ago."  
Harry froze and turned back slowly. He glanced at Adam, and saw the same concern in his face.  
In the Interrogation Room, Asif continued, "She is small, with dark brown hair."

- 0 –

Ruth shifted in her seat as Zaf sped confidently through the London traffic. His car might be pleasing on the eye, but its sleek lines were hardly conducive to a comfortable journey. Only half her mind was on the anecdote he was telling as they wove precariously between the other vehicles. She was beginning to understand Harry's pained expression whenever talk of Zaf's car came up; perhaps it wasn't only its conspicuousness which he found disagreeable. It was, of course, the man in question that occupied most of her thoughts. Poor Harry, who must be rather confused at the moment. She would catch him watching her from his office sometimes, a thoughtful little frown etched between those lovely eyes, as though he was trying to solve an intricate puzzle. Maybe that was what she was to him; a puzzle to be solved. Why else would a man like him be interested in her, in _that_ way? But even as the thought formed in her head, she knew it was unfair. After three years of working closely with him, she understood enough about his dedication to the job to know that he would not risk losing a valuable member of his team, which she undoubtedly was, for a quick conquest. He was serious about her; had shown a surprising amount of vulnerability and emotional openness towards her during their dinner a few weeks ago. And if she were honest, that scared her. What would happen when he found out there really wasn't much more to her than he already knew, that she wasn't all that interesting or adventurous in the bedroom? She was by no means a prude or inexperienced, but it had been a while and her confidence wasn't all that high.

She sighed, and Zaf stopped talking and glanced at her.  
"Am I boring you?" he asked with a cheeky smile, and she couldn't help but smile back.  
"No, sorry. Just trying to find a way out of the maze," she said; he didn't need to know that it was a whole different maze from the Abdullah problem that she was contemplating.  
"Ruth Ruth Ruth," Zaf tutted and shook his head. "Always on the job. You need to learn to have some fun, take some time off. You're as bad as Harry."  
Her head whipped towards him, and she could feel the warmth creeping up her neck. What was he implying? But he appeared oblivious to her reaction, and she realised it was an innocent remark. It wasn't a veiled reference to their one date. She looked away, staring out the window and cursing herself for her sensitivity. Was she overreacting? She didn't know anymore.  
"We're here," Zaf announced, and swung the car into a parking space a few metres away from the Imam's front door.

The man opened the door and stepped outside just as they approached, and Ruth suspected he did not want them in his house. She could understand that; they were, after all, blackmailing him to betray his community. He stood on the step, a forbidding expression on his face, and watched them approach.  
"Doesn't seem happy to see us," Zaf murmured, glancing up and down the street.  
Ruth plastered a smile on her face. "Good morning, Imam," she greeted, searching his face for any flicker of cordiality. She found none. "Thank you for seeing us," she added, but the Imam pursed his lips and folded his arms.  
"I've changed my mind," he said tersely. "I no longer wish to help you. Please leave."  
Ruth and Zaf glanced at each other.  
"Need I remind you of the incriminating photographs in our possession?" Zaf inquired pleasantly, though there was a hint of steel in his voice.  
The Imam's eyes flashed and he glared at the young spook. A cat wandered out of the house behind the Imam's legs, and Ruth crouched down to scratch it and leave the two men to square up to each other. At that precise moment a bang echoed loudly through the empty street, and at first she thought it was only a car backfiring, but then everything erupted into chaos.

_tbc_


	2. Chapter 2

Ruth froze, but around her a frenzy of action erupted. Above her she heard the Imam cry out and fall back against his door. The cat leapt from under her hands and shot up the street, and then she herself was falling. Zaf's voice yelled in her ear to 'get down', and then his weight was pressing her into the dirty concrete of the sidewalk. She felt a stinging pain in her cheek, but forgot about it as her eyes found the Imam, sprawled against the door a few metres away. A big red stain was spreading rapidly over his chest, and when she lifted her eyes to his face bright blood was trickling from his mouth. His eyes were wide and filled with panic as he struggled for breath, and she instinctively made a move towards him. Zaf pressed her down again unceremoniously and a split-second later another bullet smacked into the wall above their heads. She was vaguely aware of Zaf yelling for back-up into his mobile as her eyes stayed locked with the Imam's. He coughed twice, and she realised he was trying to speak. She focussed on his mouth, so full of blood, blocking out the chaos around them. Just for a moment the two of them seemed caught in a bubble where no other sound existed, and she heard him.  
"Abdullah," he said, willing her to understand. "_Mich atim_."  
The words were followed by a horrible gurgling sound, before he twitched a few times and was still. The eyes still stared at her, dull and unseeing. She closed her own, and the sounds around her came rushing back, dominated by the wail of sirens approaching rapidly.

- 0 –

_The Grid_

Harry and Adam were closeted in Harry's office. Adam sat on the sofa, keeping his own counsel, and watched Harry pace to and fro.  
"I assume we're both thinking the same thing," Harry said at last, not meeting Adam's steady gaze.  
"If you're thinking the mole our walk-in described sounds an awful lot like Ruth, then yes," Adam responded, bracing himself. Someone had to say it, and Harry obviously couldn't quite bring himself to do it.  
"But it can't be, surely," Harry half-stated, half-asked, as he stopped pacing and turned towards his Section Chief.  
Adam had never before seen such an expression on Harry's face; he seemed flustered, almost pleading, and for the first time Adam truly understood the depth of Harry's feelings for Ruth.  
"I don't believe it for a second," he stated firmly. "But you know as well as I do that it counts for nothing against strong evidence."  
"What bloody evidence!" Harry snapped as he resumed his pacing. "The spurious claim of a highly suspicious walk-in is not evidence."  
Adam was quiet for a beat. "Oliver Mace is on his way, to take 'personal charge of the situation'," he said quietly. "Harry, you can't let him see-"  
He stopped himself and Harry swung towards him. "Let him see what, Adam?"  
"How much you care for her," Adam completed, meeting Harry's gaze.  
The door flew open and Malcolm stuck his head in.  
Harry's head whipped round. "_Knock_!" he yelled, his helpless frustration giving the word extra force.  
Malcolm blanched but stood his ground. "Er, sorry, Harry. But there's been a shooting at our tame Imam's house."

- 0 –

The blood drained from Harry's face. All the anger was knocked out of him, replaced by a numbing fear.  
_Please, not Ruth_.  
Adam glanced at his dumbstruck boss, then asked the question he knew Harry so desperately needed answered. "Anyone hurt? Ruth and Zaf?"  
Malcolm looked at Harry, a hint of compassion in his eyes. It seemed he, too, was now aware just how deep Harry's feelings for Ruth were. "They're fine. But the Imam is dead."

Harry found his voice as relief flooded him. "Where are they now?"  
"They've taken the Imam's wife and daughter to a safe-house. Zaf thought it best to do so, until we know more about the motive behind the shooting."  
"Good," Harry responded, the beginnings of a plan stirring in his head. "Tell them to stay there until they hear from us."  
Malcolm frowned. "Both of them? I could really do with Ruth's help on the Grid-"  
"No," Adam cut him off, picking up on Harry's thinking immediately. "Keep them both at the safe-house for the time being. What do we know about the attack on the Imam?"  
"We have some cctv footage, but it's not great. Remember we installed a camera high up on the corner of the street to monitor the comings and goings at the Imam's house. Unfortunately the angle is not wide enough to pinpoint where the shot came from."  
"Zaf saw nothing?" Adam queried.  
Malcolm shook his head. "He said he was too busy keeping Ruth down and safe."  
"Okay." He looked at Harry. "I'll send Jo out there to speak to the neighbours."  
"I'm running the footage through that new 3D imaging software," Malcolm added, clearly pleased with the opportunity to use his latest toy. "It creates a three-dimensional graphic from the video footage, and it'll allow us to say with greater certainty from which of the apartments opposite the shot was fired."  
Harry nodded distractedly, his eyes focussed beyond them on the Grid's doors. Adam looked round to see Oliver Mace step through. "I'll be right there," Adam said. "I have a call to make first."  
When everyone had left, he fished out his mobile and punched a few buttons. "Zaf," he said, when he heard the familiar voice at the other end. "Listen carefully. Keep Ruth away from the Grid, and ditch both your mobiles immediately. I'll explain later." He disconnected, and followed Harry and the Chairman of the JIC to the conference room.

- 0 –

Harry took a seat at the table and watched as Mace moved to the glass wall and scanned the Grid. He wished that Juliet was out of hospital and back at the office already – he preferred to have her as a buffer between him and the JIC Chairman. He did not like Mace. The man was of questionable moral fibre and would willingly throw Ruth to the wolves if it served his own interests. At least with Juliet he would have got more leeway, more time to find out what was going on and to save her.  
"You seem a little thin on the ground at the moment, Harry," Mace observed.  
Harry ignored the comment. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Oliver?" he asked instead, folding his hands on the table in front of him. Adam took up station at the other end of table, watchful and silent.  
Mace turned around. "Where is Ruth Evershed?"  
A tendril of fear curled around Harry's heart.  
"Why?" Adam asked bluntly, taking point in an attempt to prevent Harry's quick temper from erupting.  
Mace's pale eyes turned to him, then went back to Harry. "I don't think this is a conversation to be had in front of junior personnel."  
Adam bristled. "Are you running this section now?"  
"Adam," Harry said quietly, and the younger man closed his mouth.  
"He stays," Harry told Mace. "Now, why are you here, Oliver?"

There was a moment's silence as the three men watched each other; the atmosphere crackling with distrust. At last Mace moved to the table and took a seat opposite Harry.  
"A report landed on my desk a half hour ago. You've had a walk-in with a rather interesting story to tell."  
Adam leaned forward and looked at Harry. "That was quick."  
Harry was thinking the same, but before he could say anything, Mace responded.  
"I am always interested in what the walk-ins have to say. There is a standing instruction to forward the reports to my office."  
"Come on," Harry scoffed, making a mental note to speak to the Security Officers about the chain of command. "The overwhelming majority of walk-ins are sad, pitiful specimens with delusions of grandeur, looking for their five minutes of fame. You can't tell me that those reports land on your desk within half an hour."  
Mace conceded the point with a small dip of the head. "They felt this was a special case, due to the information the man provided about the mole here in Five. And that, Harry, as you well knew from the start, is why I'm interested in the whereabouts of Miss Evershed."

Harry stared at Mace, breathing fast and deep in an attempt to quell the panic. "Ruth is not a mole for a terrorist organisation. It's simply preposterous."  
"Oh? How can you be so sure? Do you have some… _intimate _knowledge that no-one else has?"  
"What the hell are you implying?" Adam demanded, but Mace's gaze never left Harry's face.  
"It's all over this building, Adam. Your boss has been chasing after Miss Evershed's skirt. And from what I hear, has by now probably been inside said skirt."  
Harry stood so quickly that his chair skittered backwards and bumped into the wall, and Adam half-expected him to launch himself over the table at the other man. Mace must have thought the same as fear flashed across his face, to Adam's great satisfaction. But Harry somehow controlled his anger, and merely said, "Get out."  
The chilling tone of voice left Mace in no doubt as to just how much he had angered Harry, and he sat paralysed for a moment, wondering if he might have gone too far.  
"I said _get out_!" The last two words were yelled so loudly that heads popped above monitors out on the Grid to see what was going on.  
Mace hastily stood and put some distance between himself and the irate Harry. His pride would not let him leave without a parting shot, however, and he pointed a finger at Harry from the safety of the door. "Fine, but if Ruth Evershed sets foot in this building before this matter is cleared up, I will have her arrested. And no contact between you and her until then!"

Harry stood immobile until the Grid doors had closed behind Mace, before he slowly dragged his chair back to the table and sank into it. He rubbed his face with both hands wearily, and Adam didn't say anything. He didn't have to; his boss was well aware that the meeting had gone as badly as it possibly could have.  
When Harry eventually spoke, his voice was dull. "How did you all know?"  
Adam frowned, and Harry clarified, "About the date. Ruth's and mine."  
The blond spook thought for a moment, and then he sat up a bit straighter. "Jo got it out of your Security Officer."  
Harry's jaw clenched, and both men got to their feet simultaneously.

As they headed across the Grid, Malcolm waylaid them. "I've pinpointed the flat the shot had come from," he informed them with some satisfaction, and headed off towards his station. They had no option but to follow.  
The techie pointed at his monitor, where the Imam's street layout was depicted in hordes of thin green lines. The end effect was a three-dimensional impression of the various buildings along the street.  
"If I overlay the video footage of the shooting," he explained, tapping the Enter key, "the programme recreates the movements it detects onto the background."  
They watched, fascinated, as two little figures moved towards the Imam's house.  
"It automatically readjusts to ensure everything is to scale, right down to the last centimetre of Zaf and Ruth's heights," Malcolm elaborated. He was very proud of this programme. It was the last thing he and Colin had done together, which gave it extra meaning. Perhaps Adam was aware of that, because his gaze lifted to Malcolm's face for a beat, filled with compassion.  
"Now if I slow it right down," Malcolm continued, "you can see the bullet appear here," he pointed at the screen, "and from there it is child's play to trace back the trajectory to the block of flats opposite."  
Adam smiled and patted Malcolm on the shoulder. "Good work. Let Jo know, she's on her way to the street right now."  
Malcolm nodded, and Adam followed Harry, who was already halfway across the Grid.

- 0 –

Jo stood at the window of the empty flat and looked down on the street below. Police tape cordoned off the sidewalk in front of the Imam's house, and she could see the dark stain of his blood against the lighter concrete. It was an excellent vantage point from which to monitor the Imam's flat. When she tried the window, careful not to touch anything without gloves, it opened easily. She scanned the floor but there were no casings lying around; the shooter had obviously picked them up. A professional, then. A cursory search of the flat produced nothing, and she hadn't really expected it to. The caretaker had informed her that the flat had stood empty for six months now. She headed outside and began to knock on the other doors along the corridor, but no-one had seen anything. Most people were at work during the shooting, or at least claimed to be. Jo suspected that there was also a healthy dose of apathy involved; this wasn't the most salubrious of neighbourhoods. She sighed and headed towards the lift, and that was when she saw the boy seated on the stairs.

He watched her with dark, serious eyes, clicking a pen flashlight on and off repeatedly. A very familiar make of flashlight. Jo smiled brightly as she approached him. "That's a pretty cool flashlight," she remarked, stopping a few feet away so as not to scare him. "My name's Jo," she added, and the boy frowned.  
"That's a boy's name," he declared, "and you're a girl."  
Jo's smile widened. He was obviously a precocious lad. "Yes, I am. It's short for Joanna. That's a girl's name, right?"  
The boy considered and then nodded, satisfied. "Yes it is." He added, "my name's Khalil. That's a boy's name."  
"Yes it is," Jo agreed gravely. She nodded at the flashlight. "Where did you get it, Khalil?"  
The boy stopped clicking the on switch and slipped the flashlight into his pocket. "I didn't steal it!" he declared defiantly, and Jo's heart broke a little.  
"I didn't mean to imply that you did," she said soothingly. "It's just that it's pretty neat, and I would like to get one too."  
The boy relaxed again and nodded. "The man gave it me," he responded, taking it out of his pocket again.  
Jo's heart-rate sped up, and she took a chance. "The man that came out of that flat?" she asked, pointing at the door of the empty flat.  
The boy nodded again, enthusiastically. "I told him he wasn't supposed to go in there, but he showed me his badge. It had his face on it," he confided.  
"Did it really?" Jo said encouragingly. "I bet you couldn't read what it said though."  
It worked, as the boy immediately blurted out, "I can read pretty good, you know."  
Anticipation tickled at the back of Jo's neck. "You can, huh? What did it say then?"  
The boy sat up a bit taller and stated importantly, "It said Spe-cial Branch."

_tbc_


	3. Chapter 3

Harry and Adam took the lift down to the second floor where the Security Officers were housed. Harry was ominously quiet and Adam almost felt sorry for his Security Officer, who was sure to get the full force of the older man's wrath. As Harry strode into the communal room, the officers that were scattered around all got to their feet. Even though he seldom stood on ceremony, Harry had a natural aura of authority that made those in lower ranks defer to him. Or perhaps it was simply a result of the esteem in which Harry Pearce was held in this building, Adam reflected. Either way, Harry barely noticed the movement, his eyes unerringly zeroing in on the man allocated to him.  
"Percy, a moment of your time," he said, before turning on his heel and moving into the corridor.  
Adam waited until Percy had passed him, then pulled the door to. No need to let Percy's curious colleagues overhear.

"You betrayed my confidence," Harry began, and the Security Officer flinched.  
"I would never, sir!" he protested, stricken. It was a source of honour and prestige to be allocated to Harry Pearce, and he was proud of that fact.  
Harry's expression became even more forbidding. "My dinner with Miss Evershed is a source of salacious gossip all over this building. I didn't tell anyone, and Ruth certainly didn't. Do you care to offer any explanation?"  
Percy looked appalled. "I swear, sir, I never told anyone outside of your Section."  
"But you did tell Joanna."  
The Security Officer flushed and shuffled his feet. "Sir, I-"  
"Beguiled by her feminine wiles, were you?" Harry asked icily. "Fooled by that innocent smile?"  
Percy dropped his head. He looked like his world had just ended.  
Harry let the silence stretch for a while, before he took a step towards the man and softened his voice. "Now listen to me carefully, son. You are _my_ Security Officer. That means you are loyal to _me_ and to me _alone_. Not to my Section, or to anyone above me, but to me. Unless you see me do something that endangers the safety of this country, you tell no-one anything about my movements. This is especially pertinent to my personal life. I trusted you with something precious and important to me, and you failed me."  
Percy blinked miserably. "It will never happen again, sir. I give you my word. If you would give me another chance… You won't regret it."  
Harry searched his face intently and was apparently satisfied with what he saw there. "There is a way you can make it up to me."  
"Anything. I'll do anything," Percy said eagerly.  
"One of your colleagues is providing information to Oliver Mace on what is happening in MI5. I want to know who, and why."

- 0 -

When they got back to the Grid, they found Jo and Malcolm in earnest conversation.  
"Harry!" Jo called, her relief upon seeing him evident. She quickly relayed what she'd learnt, and Adam frowned.  
"What the hell is Special Branch doing taking out one of our assets?"  
"Perhaps they didn't know he was ours," Jo suggested. "It could be totally unrelated to our dealings with him."  
"Even if that were the case, it's still an appalling failure of communication. Special Branch can't go around executing people without approval from the JIC, who is well aware that the Imam is our asset," Harry said testily. He turned to Adam. "Get out to the safe-house, and inform Ruth what's going on. Jo, I want you to go home with Ruth and stay with her. Once she is safely at home, I want Adam and Zaf to take a crack at the walk-in. I fear there is something more sinister than a possible attack on Britain behind all these machinations, and I want to know what it is."  
He turned on his heel and marched off, leaving a gobsmacked Jo and Malcolm in his wake.  
"Where are you going?" Adam called, and Harry turned around briefly. "I'm going to ask Oliver Mace why he allowed Special Branch to assassinate one of our assets."  
Jo looked after him with alarm. "Adam? What does this have to do with Ruth?"

It was only when she asked the question that Adam realised the rest of the team still had no idea what the walk-in had alleged. "The walk-in claimed that there was a mole in MI5 that would assist the terrorists with the impending attack on Britain. He said he didn't have a name but that it was a woman who came over from GCHQ a few years ago, small and with brown hair." He paused as they stared at him in alarm. "There's only one person who fits that description."  
Jo actually laughed. "That's ridiculous. Ruth?"  
Adam didn't smile, and she quickly sobered. "_We_ all know that, but Oliver Mace has said that she will be arrested if she sets foot in this building."  
"Shit. No wonder Harry looks so agitated. What are we going to do?"  
"What Harry ordered," Adam said firmly and turned to Malcolm. "I know you're the only one left on the Grid, Malcolm, and that it's getting late, but I need you to pull out all the stops on Misbah Asif. I think his sudden appearance is an attempt to divert our attention, and Harry's specifically. Due to the gossip about his date with Ruth, everyone in this building now knows that she may be a weak spot for him. It can't be a coincidence that she gets accused of being a mole shortly after this becomes known."  
Jo looked guilty and Adam softened his tone. "It's not your fault, Jo. We all took part in the gossiping and we didn't mean anything malicious by it. But it stops now. No more gossiping about the private life of anyone in this Section. Okay?"  
They both nodded. Malcolm said determinedly, "I'll get on Asif right away."  
Adam smiled gratefully. "Come on," he said to Jo. "We'll swing by your place and pick up some stuff. You're staying with Ruth tonight – I don't want her trying to sneak onto the Grid and getting arrested. There's no telling what Harry might do then; he's barely in control as it is."

- 0 –

_Safe-house, undisclosed location_

Ruth stared at Adam in growing disbelief. They were closeted in the kitchen as he explained the situation to her, and her eyes kept flitting to the microwave clock behind his shoulder, aware of every second that ticked by. Zaf was there too, listening in silence. His eyes were troubled as they switched between her and Adam, and that even more than the words made her realise the seriousness of the situation.  
_Time_.  
She had always thought she and Harry would have enough time to sort things out. God, how naïve she'd been. Her hands toyed with a button on her coat restlessly. "You need to get me onto the Grid," she told Adam. "If I can get access to the systems, I can figure it out."  
"No." Adam shook his head to emphasise the word. "You'll be arrested the moment you set foot in Thames House. We can't risk that."  
"We could get her in unseen," Zaf said, still young enough to believe that they could conquer all.  
"No," Adam reiterated, the blue eyes flashing. He would brook no opposition. "Oliver Mace has spies all over that building. He'll know, and then we'd lose the most important thing we have at the moment."  
They both looked at him, and he added, "Time. Whilst Ruth remains free, we have time. The moment they arrest you, it'll be over. It will limit our options to the point where there will be nothing we could do."  
He turned to Ruth. "You need to trust me. I won't let anything happen to you."  
Just for a moment, she saw the old Adam; not the one worn down by his wife's death, by the burden of raising his son alone, but the brilliant, loyal, compassionate leader that he was capable of being.  
"Adam-" she shook her head, but he did not let her continue.  
"_Harry_ won't let anything happen to you," he said with quiet emphasis, and tears sprung to her eyes.  
She blinked them away. "Adam. You know as well as I do that once they turn the might of our intelligence machine against someone, it is impossible to stop it." She met his eyes squarely, and added, "There are things that not even Harry can prevent."  
Adam watched her for a few seconds as he absorbed her words, her desperation, and then he almost smiled. "I think they forgot to tell Harry that." He took a step towards her. "Give him a chance – give _us_ a chance. Go home, and stay there. Give us time," he said gently, and eventually she nodded.  
The blond spook breathed a sigh of relief and turned to Zaf. "Come on. You and I are going to try and break Asif."  
With a final encouraging look at Ruth, the two men departed, and she was left in the kitchen, alone.

- 0 –

_Two hours later_

Harry leant his head back and stared at Percy's profile, a million thoughts racing through his mind. It was late, after ten, and he was being driven home. The meeting with Mace had been a waste of time, the two men verbally circling each other like two wary dogs looking for an unguarded flank to sink their teeth into. The JIC Chairman had flatly denied any knowledge of a Special Branch operation against the Imam, disdainfully dismissing any evidence Harry laid before him. And deep down Harry knew they had nothing; as Mace rightfully pointed out, the badge could have been fake or stolen. Still, there was something in the man's demeanour which alerted Harry's every sense – he could swear he had seen a flash of relief in those cold eyes when he'd made his accusation against Special Branch. But why? He couldn't figure it out.

His thoughts went to Ruth for the umpteenth time that day. He wondered how she was, what she was feeling, and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to see her.  
"Percy, take me to Miss Evershed's house please," he ordered, and the Security Officer's eyes met his in the rearview mirror. They were guarded and worried, and Harry knew what he was going to say before he opened his mouth.  
"They've put a tracker on the car, sir. On Mr Mace's orders. He is to be informed if you have contact with Miss Evershed."  
Harry fought down the flash of indignation that threatened to burst out. What was going on? Why were they wasting so many valuable resources on Ruth and him?  
He forced a smile and nodded at Percy. "Thank you. I'll get out at the next traffic light, and you drive to my house as per normal."  
The young man smiled. "I will, sir."

As the car coasted to a stop, Harry slipped out and darted around the corner. Once he was safely out of sight, he stood for a moment. He was taking a big risk, putting his trust in the Security Officer. He was gambling Ruth's future and his own career on the man's loyalty to him. Added to that, he knew that he was also risking Percy's career. He had to talk to Ruth; maybe together they could figure a way out of this mess.

- 0 –

Ruth stared mindlessly at the flickering images on the television. The sound was muted, but Jo was chattering away brightly to fill the silence. Ruth wasn't really listening, and she suspected that Jo knew that. Though it was unfair, she resented the younger woman's presence in her house, her sanctuary. Jo was simply doing her job and trying to cheer Ruth up, and she didn't deserve the sullen silence in response. But Ruth did not have the energy to hold up her end of the conversation. Her mind kept worrying at what had happened. Why was someone trying to frame her as a mole? Was the shooting of the Imam linked to it? Why did Mace so readily believe the accusations? What was Harry doing? Round and round she went without finding any answers. She was brought out of her trance by an unexpected sound. Someone was tapping lightly against the back door. By the time she lifted her head, Jo was already halfway across the room, and Ruth was surprised to see a gun in her hand. She motioned for Ruth to be quiet and carefully lifted her eye to the spy-hole. A strange noise escaped her as she realised who it was, and she lowered the gun.  
"It's Harry," she said, and Ruth's heart leapt.

- 0 –

As soon as he was through the door, his eyes sought her out. She stood in the middle of the room, folding and unfolding her hands, and she looked exhausted and scared. For a moment he was overwhelmed by his feelings for her, and by a helpless rage at all those who were trying to harm her, and he couldn't find any words. He vaguely heard Jo say that she would make some tea, and then they were alone.  
Ruth spoke first. "You shouldn't be here," she said, the gentle tone of her voice softening the rebuke.  
He took a few steps towards her, gazing at her face intently. "I was worried about you," he answered softly, longing to touch her but not quite daring to, unsure about the boundaries of their non-relationship.  
"I'm fine," she responded, but the slight quiver in her voice belied the words.  
"Ruth," Harry sighed, and there was so much emotion in his eyes that she had to look away, "I won't allow them to frame you. I promise, I will sort it out."  
Ruth began to shake her head almost before he'd finished. "Don't make promises you can't keep," she said, sounding so broken that his heart shattered.  
On instinct he reached for her, and she stepped into his embrace willingly. Her arms went around him and clutched him close as she buried her face in his shoulder, and he held her tight against him and nestled his nose in her hair.  
"I intend to keep this one," he murmured fervently.  
Neither of them saw Jo appear in the door, and quietly withdraw again.

- 0 –

_The Grid, Interrogation Room_

Adam paced the floor behind Zaf, who stared at the man on the monitor. They had been going at Asif for hours, with nothing to show for it, and he was becoming worried. Either the man was truly convinced that Ruth was a mole, or he was a professional. He couldn't decide which option alarmed him more.  
Zaf rubbed his neck wearily and looked at his Section Chief. "Do we step it up a notch?"  
Adam considered. He wasn't sure their careers would survive if they crossed the vague line between interrogation and torture with this particular candidate, given Oliver Mace's interest in the case, but desperate times called for desperate measures. It was time for a bold play, but he would not ruin Zaf's career as well. He opened his mouth, about to send the younger spook away, when Malcolm burst through the door.  
"You need to see this," he said breathlessly, before bolting back to the Grid.  
Zaf and Adam shared a bemused glance before following the techie.

He was already planted behind his screen when they arrived, and the 3D modelling programme was open on it. He barely waited for them to take up position behind him before he launched into his information.  
"I was looking at the footage again, taking it further back to see if I could get a glimpse of the shooter. Instead I realised something else about the shooting incident itself. Look at the moment the bullet enters the screen and Ruth's position."  
One look at the two men's horrified expressions told him that they had already grasped it, but he said it anyway. "When the shooter pulled the trigger, Ruth was still upright. He had no idea that she would bend down to stroke the cat." He paused, and looked at them gravely. "It would have been a head shot. The Imam was not the target. Ruth was."

_tbc_


	4. Chapter 4

_One hour earlier_

Harry sat on the sofa with Ruth curled against his side. He idly ran his fingers through her hair, marvelling at its silkiness. Jo had been sent home some time ago, and to her credit she didn't bat an eye. There was no sly grin, no knowing look, and for that he was grateful. But perhaps it would not have mattered if there were. Ruth seemed to have moved past her horror at being the source of gossip, and he wondered whether it was only because of the situation they found themselves in. Somehow he suspected that she had already begun to change her mind about that second date even before all of this had happened. He certainly hoped so.

Her fingers were tracing his buttons, and looking down at her exhausted face, he wondered what she was thinking. He momentarily tightened the arm slung around her shoulders, and she looked up at him. "Why don't you get some sleep? You look exhausted."  
Worry flitted across her features. "You won't leave?" she asked anxiously, and he smiled gently.  
"No, Ruth. I won't leave."  
The simple words were loaded with meaning, and she understood. She smiled radiantly, and her fingers lifted to trace his jaw, hesitantly at first, and then more boldly when his skin flushed under the caress. Her eyes fell to his mouth, and he dipped his head and kissed her.

- 0 –

Adam watched grimly as the bullet went straight into an upright graphic-Ruth's head, and knew that Malcolm was right. The Imam had not been the target. He sprang into action. "Call Jo, warn her." As he spoke he removed a gun from his desk drawer. "Tell her I'm on my way over."

As Zaf moved to join him, Adam shook his head. "You take our walk-in to his house to collect some things, and then take him to a safe-house." At their enquiring looks he added, "I don't want to lose our only live link to this whole conspiracy due to an unfortunate accident. If someone in the Security Services is somehow behind this, they won't have any scruples about removing anyone who knows too much."

Then he was through the door and Malcolm was reaching for the phone.

- 0 –

"Hello," a sleepy voice said after a few rings.  
"Jo, it's Malcolm. Listen, Ruth was the target earlier today, not the Imam. You need to be vigilant in case they try again."  
"…What?"  
"The shooting earlier today was an attempt on Ruth's life. There may be another attempt at her house tonight. Adam is on his way."  
There was a long silence, and then she said, "Jesus, Malcolm. I'm not at Ruth's house."  
Malcolm went cold and almost missed her next words. "Harry's there. Call Harry! I'm on my way now as well."  
It took a moment for him to process the words, and then he almost smiled.  
_Good for them._  
He reached for the phone once more.

- 0 –

He stood in the shadows of a large shrub in the garden opposite the target's house. The family was away on holiday and no-one was aware of his presence. He had been told in no uncertain terms to finish the job tonight. It was just bad luck that he had failed earlier; he couldn't possibly have predicted that the woman would squat down at that precise moment. He wondered if there would be repercussions about the man he had killed instead. If there were, it would not be his alone to bear – he had made sure of that. In a safe-box in his bank he had an insurance policy, and the thought of it made him smile. He focussed his attention back on the house opposite. The young blond woman had left some time ago and he had not seen anyone else arrive, and now the lights on the ground-floor was switched off, to be replaced moments later by lights on the first floor. He flexed his fingers and rolled his shoulders to loosen some of the tension. Not long now. He wondered briefly what this woman had done. She seemed nice enough as he had watched her through the scope earlier. But she must have done something to bring the wrath of the state onto her head. It was not his role to ask why, though; he was merely the instrument they used. The last light went off, and he made his move.

- 0 –

He slid soundlessly around the house, testing every window. People were almost always careless, and sure enough he soon found one that was unlatched. He eased it open, relieved when it gave easily and quietly, before sweeping the small flashlight in a quick arc through the interior. A sitting room. One mug on the coffee-table. Lots of books. A pair of malignant yellow eyes-  
Heart thumping, he jerked the light back to find an ugly cat sitting on a chair, staring at him. He let out a slow breath and eased himself through the opening. Once inside he removed the gun from its holster in the small of his back and made sure that the silencer was properly fitted. He made his way up the stairs, carefully testing each tread for creaking floorboards before putting his full weight on it. By the time he reached the landing sweat was trickling down his spine from the effort of total concentration. He was faced with three closed doors, and he tested the first handle. Unlocked. He pushed it open to find a bathroom, and moved to the next one. Also unlocked – a spare- cum storage room. Only one remained. It must be the main bedroom then. He stood against it, listening, straining every sinew to pick up any sound from within. There was nothing, so he carefully pushed open the door. The thick curtains let in very little light and the room was pitch-dark, but by now his eyes were used to it. He made out a lump in the middle of the bed and lifted the gun. He squeezed off three quick shots, middle mass, before moving forward. Just as he reached the bed the silence of the night was shattered by the roar of an engine and squealing tyres. Headlights swept over the window and he realised the car had stopped in front of this house. It was time to get out. But before he could turn around, a cold cylindrical object was pressed against the back of his neck, and a voice said icily, "Keep very still."

- 0 –

"Drop the gun and kick it towards the door."  
The intruder obeyed, and once it was out of reach Harry said, "Ruth, the light."  
She emerged cautiously from the closet and moments later the room was flooded with light. Feet pounded up the stairs and Harry glanced at her. "The cavalry has arrived."  
Adam burst into the room, gun sweeping, only to be met by the sight of Harry pressing a small lead pipe to the back of the intruder's neck. "I saw three muzzle flashes," he stated, before spotting Ruth standing next to the door and grinning in relief.  
Harry motioned him over with a flick of the head as he responded, "Special Branch man made a glaring error. He assumed."  
Beyond them Adam could see the lump in the middle of the bed, and the three holes in the centre of it. He stepped forward and took over from Harry, forcing the man to his knees and snapping some handcuffs on.  
"You'd think we train these guys better than that," he said as he hauled the man upright. "Where's Jo?"  
"I sent her home," Harry explained, staring at Adam and daring him to say something. "Malcolm said she's on her way back here," he added, fighting down images of what Malcolm's call had interrupted.  
But Adam kept a straight face. "Good. It's time to have a talk, mate," he said to the intruder, leaving the man in no doubt as to how much trouble he was in. "You just tried to kill a member of MI5's Counter Terrorism section."  
When he looked back from the door, he saw Harry reach for Ruth's hand, and he smiled to himself.

- 0 –

Adam forced the intruder down on a hard-backed chair in the dining room and took up station a few metres away. He studied the man carefully, and could tell from the way he held himself that he was well trained. The man's eyes stayed on the gun that Adam was rhythmically tapping against his leg.  
"You're Special Branch," Adam said eventually, and the man's eyes lifted to his in surprise. The blond spook nodded, satisfied. "Why are you trying to kill my colleague?"  
The man stared at him silently, and Adam shrugged. "You've been trained not to give any information away. But a piece of advice: I designed that course that you went through. I know every trick in the book, including a few things I didn't put in that course. There is no doubt that you will tell me what I want to know sooner or later, and that things will get very unpleasant for you until you do so."  
The man stirred and Adam considered it his first little victory. "You're not allowed to torture me under UK law," he stated confidently, and Adam smirked.  
"And you're not allowed to assassinate my colleague, under UK law. You broke that law; I see no reason why I can't do the same."  
Alarm flitted briefly across the man's face. "My superiors-"  
"-Can't help you, mate," Adam said, losing patience. "This is not an authorised operation, is it? It's a black op, and they will throw you to the wolves."  
For the first time a hint of fear crept into the man's eyes, but not as much as Adam had hoped. The spook kept quiet as the captive mulled things over. When he didn't say anything, Adam pointed up the stairs. "Do you know who the man upstairs is?"  
Again there was no response, and Adam pressed on. "It is Harry Pearce."  
The man looked up at that news, and Adam nodded. "Yeah, you look worried, and with good reason. I can see that you know his reputation, so consider this: The woman you've tried to kill twice now is very important to him." Adam leaned forward and said quietly, "He is not the type of man to let that pass without retribution. Your life, right now, is worth nothing." He let that thought sink in, and then he asked, "Who sent you?"

- 0 –

They were gathered in the kitchen. Jo had arrived, and they were now dissecting what Adam had learnt. Ruth looked dazed, clearly struggling to process the fact that Special Branch was trying to kill her. Harry had plied her with sweet tea, and now he stood next to her, watching her with concern as Adam relayed his information. Ruth was leaning ever so slightly into Harry's shoulder, and Jo wondered whether she was even aware of doing it.  
"You're not going to like this," Adam said, looking at Harry.  
"That would imply that I am happy with the state of affairs as they stand now," Harry snapped.  
"Harry," Ruth said quietly, and he swallowed whatever he was going to add.  
Adam continued, "His name is Ross Barrett, and he is a team leader in the Branch's Special Operations group. About two years ago he was called in by a senior figure in the intelligence community and recruited for black ops purposes." Adam looked at them meaningfully. "Oliver Mace."  
Harry did not seem surprised by this news, as his mouth set in a grim line.  
"Since then Barrett has done a number of jobs for Mace, the last of which he was given this morning. He was given a photo of Ruth and ordered to take her out. It was imperative that it be done today, he says."  
"So as soon as the walk-in made his claims, Mace ordered the hit," Jo surmised, but Adam shook his head.  
"That's the thing," he said. "Harry, he got the order just after eight this morning, a good hour before the walk-in entered Thames House."

- 0 –

The kitchen clock ticked loudly in the ensuing silence.  
"You mean it's not linked to the walk-in's allegations?" Jo asked in confusion.  
Adam opened his mouth, but Harry got there before him. "Yes it is. It is all part of one big malodorous plot against Ruth." His anger simmered below the surface, potent and dangerous, and Ruth's hands curled even tighter around the mug.  
"But why?" Jo entreated, wondering if she was the only one who didn't get it. But no-one had an explanation.  
Harry glanced at Ruth. "That is the question we must answer." When she looked up at him, he gave her a small, encouraging smile, and she returned it wanly. He turned back to Adam. "We have to get back to the Grid and talk to Asif."  
"I told Zaf to take him to a safe-house. He was our only link to this plot and I didn't want him to have an accident because he knew too much. These people aren't playing around."  
Ruth's head shot up. "What did you say?"  
Adam looked between her and Harry, perplexed. "Asif is at a safe-house-"  
"-Not that," she said impatiently. "You said they might try to kill him because he knew too much." Her eyes shined with excitement as she grabbed Harry's arm. "That's it, Harry. That's the answer. Whatever they are trying to do, I know something that could ruin their plans."  
Harry gazed at her as he thought it through, and then he nodded slowly. "Yes. But what?"

- 0 –

Asif took his time to gather a few belongings and stuff them into a sports bag. _The_ sports bag. He wondered what other machinations were going on, what the others were doing to ensure that the woman did not see him. He felt bad for accusing her of being a mole, but something had to be done. It had been a long time ago, and perhaps she would not have remembered him, but he doubted that. She was one of the smartest people he'd ever met, and she remembered things. Names, faces of people she'd only seen briefly. No, she would have remembered him. He sighed, and carefully packed his roll-on deodorant right at the top. The decision to move him to the safe-house was a complication. He needed to be at Thames House, and he tried to think of something to persuade the spook to take him back there. It was clear to him that the Counter Terrorism section was not reporting their activities to the higher authorities, otherwise they would have put a stop to the move. Well, there was nothing to be done now. He would have to make the best of the situation.

He nodded to the spook as he zipped up the bag. "Ready."  
As Zaf nodded, his mobile rang and he held up a hand as he fished it out.  
"Yeah?" He listened for a minute or so, his eyes staying on Asif all the time. "Okay. We'll be there in half an hour."  
He put the mobile away and opened the door. "Change of plans," he announced. "We're going back to Thames House."  
Asif stared at him, his heart thumping against his ribs, and nodded wordlessly. He wondered what had caused the change in plan. Whatever it was, it had played right into his hands.

_tbc_


	5. Chapter 5

_A few minutes earlier  
Ruth's house, London_

"You need to get me into Thames House, Harry," Ruth urged, but Harry immediately shook his head. "I can figure this out, I know I can-"  
"You'll be arrested, Ruth! Or worse!" Harry took a step away, rubbing his forehead.  
Jo watched, fascinated by a side of her boss she had never seen before. Adam, though, was in full operational mode. "She's right, Harry."  
Harry's head snapped up and he glared at the younger man, who didn't flinch.  
"Only Ruth can figure out what it is that she knows that scares them so much," he persisted.  
Harry said nothing, but lifted his chin defiantly.  
"Would you give us a moment?" Ruth intervened, before the situation could evolve into a testosterone-fuelled stand-off.  
"Of course," Jo said immediately, before Adam could argue, and practically dragged him out of the kitchen.

Once alone, neither of them said anything for a while. Harry didn't meet her eye and she waited him out, allowing him the time he needed to get hold of his emotions. Finally he lifted his head, to find her watching him.  
"You can put any measure you like in place, but you have to get me onto the Grid," she said again.  
He took a step back towards her. "I am not confident that I have control over security at Thames House at the moment. Mace has spies all over the building and once you are arrested, you will be out of my reach. Out of my protection. They tried to kill you, for God's sake." He searched her face. "I _have_ to protect you."  
Ruth was immediately reminded of the last time she heard him use these words. That time it was his daughter who was in trouble, someone he loved deeply, and warmth spread through her body.  
"Now who's naïve?" she asked with a gentle smile. "With all the resources at their disposal, they'll find me eventually, no matter where I try to hide." She laid a hand against his cheek, and her eyes roamed over his face. Memorising every line, every feature, every pore. "The only chance we have is to beat them at their own game."  
His hands flexed on her hips, and he pulled her against him. He held her tightly, and over his shoulder she could see Jo watching them from the corridor. She didn't care anymore. She felt his breath wash over her forehead before it was replaced by his lips pressing a tender kiss into her skin.  
"All right," he murmured, and she could tell just how much the decision had cost him in the rigidity of the muscles in his back. She burrowed into him, unwilling to let go yet, to leave the safety of his embrace, and resolved never to push him away again, if they managed to get out of this mess. Eventually they pulled apart and smiled at each other shyly, suddenly aware how much of their feelings they had revealed to each other during these last few hours. Her gaze shifted to Jo and she nodded, and the two blond spooks re-entered the kitchen.

"We're smuggling Ruth onto the Grid," Harry announced without preamble, and Adam smiled. "But we have to find something on Oliver Mace. The quickest way out of this shambles is to neutralise that odious bastard."  
Adam nodded. "My new friend may be able to help with that," he said, hooking a thumb towards the sitting room. "He says he put some insurance away, to ensure that he would not be the only one holding the can if things went pear-shaped."  
"What sort of insurance?" Harry asked.  
"He wouldn't say, only that it was video footage of a secret meeting Mace had with someone. He was adamant that Mace would not want anyone to see this footage."  
"Get it," his boss ordered. "Let us hope that for once a Special Branch officer is not misguided about the evidence before him."  
Jo smiled, but Adam shook his head. "It's in a safe deposit box in a bank. We can only get it in-" he glanced at his watch, "seven hours when the bank opens."  
Harry pursed his lips, then made a decision. "Okay. Adam, you stay with Barrett and collect the tape as soon as you can, then bring it to the Grid."  
Adam nodded but Harry was not finished. "Be vigilant. If they are willing to kill Ruth to protect their plans, they will have no qualms about silencing one of their lackeys." He turned to Jo and Ruth. "We must devise a way to get Ruth into Thames House unseen."  
"I've been thinking about that," Jo piped up. "The CIA is scheduled to deliver a new crate of files on suspected terrorists they want hauled in and tortured."  
Harry and Ruth looked at each other. "Are they now," Harry said thoughtfully, and Ruth began to smile.  
"Bob Hogan owes you a favour after you helped him cover up that unfortunate incident of the American diplomat who was found shackled to a bed in a transvestite prostitution house with his pants round his ankles."  
Harry's mouth twitched. "He does indeed."

- 0 –

_One hour later, Thames House_

Zaf steered Asif into the foyer ahead of him, continuously scanning the street for suspicious activity. When the door closed behind them and they were safely inside, he breathed a sigh of relief. The night-duty security officers watched them approach the scanners with interest; they seldom saw activity between two and four in the morning. Zaf tensed again, mindful of Adam's warning that the security officers were not to be trusted. A balding, slightly overweight one stepped forward. Zaf vaguely recalled his name – Brian something.  
"Morning, sir," he said cordially before directing Asif to place his sports bag on the scanner's belt.  
Just as Zaf opened his mouth to respond, a commotion behind him interrupted. The door banged open and two men carried in a sealed crate. 'Property of the USA – Diplomatic Bag, DO NOT OPEN' was emblazoned across its lid. Behind the crate the CIA's Head of Station strode in, looking grumpy and tired. But then, that seemed to be Bob Hogan's default demeanour.  
"Good morning, Bob," Zaf said immediately, unable to suppress a grin. "Did you forget to adjust your watch to UK time after your last home visit?"  
Hogan glowered at him. "Very funny, Mr Younis. We're less likely to run into press outside the door if we come at this hour, and what with the stink Harry Pearce kicks up every time we want a suspected terrorist brought in for questioning, I'm beginning to wonder whether he isn't the one tipping them off about the time we're to deliver the next load of files on suspects."  
Zaf eyed the heavy-looking crate. "Problem is that you guys think being a Muslim is reason enough to make someone a suspected terrorist."  
"A suspicious mind never hurt anybody," Hogan shot back. "Matter of fact, a bit more suspicion on your side won't go amiss. Who knows, you might be surprised at what you'll find."  
Whilst this exchange was going on, only Asif paid any attention to the security officer as his bag went through the scanner. The man's face remained expressionless as he handed it back. "All clear," he pronounced, and Asif was very aware of the beads of sweat pearling on the man's upper lip. The crate was waved through without being scanned, and the whole procession made their way up to the Grid.

- 0 –

When they got to the Grid, Harry stood waiting. He looked slightly rumpled in shirtsleeves and sans tie. They were all tired, but they could not afford to waste any time. Harry's eyes flicked briefly over Asif before returning to Zaf. "Take him to the Interview Room," he instructed.  
Zaf nodded and took Asif's bag from him, plonking it down on his desk.  
Asif swallowed. "Can I get a handkerchief from it?" he asked, and Zaf nodded impatiently. It felt as though every eye in the room was on him as he rummaged in the bag, before lifting the handkerchief out and wiping his nose with it.  
"Come on," Zaf said, and led him away.

- 0 –

Once Hogan had dismissed his minions Harry stepped forward. "Get her out of there," he said, a hint of anxiety in his voice.  
Hogan smirked. "Relax, Harry. I gave her an oxygen tank." He folded his arms and studied the Section Head. Though he looked as commanding as ever, there was a sliver of desperation he was unable to suppress. It intrigued Bob. "I think I deserve some information, don't you? It seems a big deal to smuggle someone into Thames House-"  
"Open the bloody crate, Bob." Harry didn't raise his voice, but his eyes flashed dangerously and the CIA officer was reminded of Harry Pearce's reputation for ruthlessness when crossed.  
He fished out the keys and opened the padlocks, then stepped out of the way. Harry lifted the lid to find Ruth peering up at him, blinking owlishly in the sudden light.

"Oh good," she said, "my leg was beginning to cramp."  
Harry smiled and held out a hand to help her up, only just refraining from offering to massage her leg for her.  
"All right?" he asked softly once she was stood next to him. Close to him.  
"Mm," she murmured, holding his gaze for a moment before handing the small oxygen tank to Bob Hogan. She glanced around the deserted Grid, a sudden rush of fond familiarity almost overwhelming her. She did not want to contemplate the possibility of never setting foot here again, and just as importantly of never seeing Harry again. He must have read some of it in her face, for when she looked up his eyes were on her, his expression impossibly tender.  
"I better go find Malcolm, get started," she announced, and Harry nodded. He watched her go until she was out of sight, before turning to Hogan. Ignoring the other man's knowing smirk, he said, "A drink?" and led the way to his office without waiting for an answer.

- 0 –

Malcolm was ecstatic to see her. He launched into a long-winded update of the searches he'd done on Asif, before concluding glumly, "I can't find anything suspicious about his background. If he is a plant, he has one of the most thoroughly back-stopped legends I have ever seen."  
Ruth frowned in concentration, her mind turning over every piece of information they had, trying to find the connection, the key that would unlock the riddle. "_Mich atim_," she said suddenly, looking up at Malcolm, who stared at her uncomprehendingly. Ruth's face brightened in excitement as she began to pick up the scent.  
"That's what the Imam said about Abdullah, with his dying breath. 'He is innocent'."  
"What does that have to do with the walk-in and the attempts on you?" Malcolm queried, and Ruth shifted from one foot to the other impatiently.  
"Asif is a member of Abdullah's mosque, right? So we automatically assumed that he was pointing the finger at Abdullah when he claimed there was an imminent attack. What if the whole thing is a set-up? What if it starts way back with the snippets of information we've been fed about Abdullah?"  
The techie looked doubtful. "That would be a rather elaborate undertaking, and to what end?"  
"I don't know. But that was Harry's instinct as well, and I think he's right."  
Malcolm smiled slightly, and Ruth coloured, but she held his look defiantly, daring him to say something.  
"I'm glad," he ventured carefully. "Like I said before, I think you make a smashing couple. And that is the last word I'll say on the subject."  
Ruth seemed to relax somewhat, and nodded in acknowledgement.  
Malcolm continued, "So we trace back the origin of the intercepts?"  
"We don't need to," Ruth said with a small smile. "I already know exactly where in GCHQ it originated from."

- 0 –

Harry and Bob Hogan each cradled a whisky as they measured each other across the expanse of Harry's desk. He was wary of the American; Bob was old-school and he wanted to like the man, but there was something about him that gave Harry pause. What he hadn't yet figured out was whether it was because of his ingrained dislike of all things American, or whether it was something else. Until he knew, he would be careful about what he shared with the man.  
"Thanks for the help, Bob," he said, for once not having to fake his sincerity.  
Bob eyed him speculatively. "I'm not in a position to ask for details, as I owed you this favour, but I would like to know what is going on. As a professional courtesy."  
"Of course," Harry said easily, but he weighed his next words carefully. "We picked up intercepts that indicated an imminent terror attack. When we sent Ruth and Zaf round to question our only source in the Muslim community, someone took pot-shots at them and killed our source. For some reason they seem to be targeting Ruth now, so we thought it would be safest if she were here, on the Grid, without anyone knowing."  
Bob's gaze slid to his glass as he processed the explanation, and Harry wasn't sure whether he bought it or not. When he lifted his eyes back to Harry's there was a veiled look in them which Harry filed away for future analysis.  
"Glad I could help," Bob said before he tossed back his drink and stood. "I'll ask my people to share any information they have about a possible attack with you."  
Harry rose as well and held out his hand. "Thank you, Bob." He watched the CIA man until the doors closed behind him, before his mouth set in a grim line and he walked off to find Ruth.

- 0 –

"Found it!" Malcolm yelled triumphantly and Ruth spun round, knocking a heap of files to the floor. "Your contact in GCHQ made a call to a private number about five minutes after giving you those three additional intercepts. Though I don't know who the mobile belonged to, I do know that it was in the office of the JIC Chairman when it was answered."  
Ruth heaved a sigh of relief and dropped her head, trying to release the tension in her neck. Her eye caught a photograph that had spilt onto the floor from one of the disturbed files, and she tilted her head to see the face more clearly. "Who's that?"  
"Eh?" Malcolm, momentarily thrown by the change in topic, glanced over his shoulder. "That's Asif," he said before turning back to his screen. When Ruth didn't say anything he looked back at her curiously, to find her pale face still focussed on the photo.  
"No. No, it's not, Malcolm." Her voice shook and when she looked up at him, she was so pale that he was worried she would pass out.  
"Ruth? What-"  
She jumped up and mumbled, "I have to speak to Harry," before practically running out of the room. As she flew around the corner, she nearly bowled the man himself over. He threw his arms around her in an effort to keep them both upright, and she heard a soft _oof_ escape his lips as she knocked the wind out of him.  
"God, sorry!" she gasped, grabbing onto his shoulders.  
He kept hold of her as he gathered himself. "Why the haste?" he enquired, soft eyes sliding over her face.  
Her hands tightened on his shirt, and the fear in her eyes alarmed him immeasurably, even before she spoke her next words.  
"I know why they're trying to kill me."

_tbc_


	6. Chapter 6

"His name isn't Misbah Asif," Ruth said.  
They were in Harry's office, the door closed, and she was perched on the edge of the sofa. He sat behind the desk and she felt a bit like a naughty school child in the principal's office. Except for the softness in his gaze. She wondered bleakly whether it would still be there once she'd told him everything.  
"I met him at Oxford," she explained, ploughing on determinedly. "He was one of the tutors for the students that took Arabic." Only now did she lift her gaze to his face. "I knew him as Kamil Misral." Her eyes slid away from him again, back into the past. "He was a good teacher," she murmured with a slight smile, suddenly overcome with memories.  
Harry watched her carefully, his face betraying nothing. He thought he had an inkling of where this was going. "Ruth-" he began, but she wouldn't let him continue.  
"He offered me private lessons, you see," she hurried on, the words tumbling out almost unconsciously. "I said yes. And on the third night he took me to bed."  
She couldn't quite bring herself to look at him, and was only aware that he was moving when she heard the rustle of clothes. The sofa dipped as he settled next to her.  
"So he knew you could blow his legend out of the water right off the bat," he said thoughtfully.  
"There's more," she admitted and glanced at him apprehensively. All she saw was compassion.  
"Yes?"  
"We were lovers for about six months, but I became increasingly concerned about his extremist tendencies."  
Harry tilted his head. "In what way?"  
"He kept talking about the death of his two sisters. They were killed in a suicide bombing back in Pakistan. He was very angry at the jihadists. He said they besmirched his religion, and that he would have his revenge one day."  
Harry frowned. This was not what he had expected at all. "An anti-jihadist extremist," he mused. "I don't think I've ever come across one before." He turned back to her. "What did you do?"  
Her gaze dropped to her hands. "I'd already been recruited by GCHQ, so I tipped them off."  
He could see her self-disgust.  
"I told them everything, and two weeks later he simply dropped off the radar. We were told he'd gone back to Pakistan, but I suspected he'd been recruited by either MI5 or MI6. It would seem I was right."

- 0 –

Adam pulled into the fuel station. They'd been driving around for hours now; he thought they had a better chance of staying undetected by doing so. Ross Barrett was slumped in the passenger seat, dozing fitfully. Adam thumped the glass next to his head and he jerked upright, blinking dazedly. The spook felt a stab of satisfaction. It was petty, but he was tired and he was not inclined to be magnanimous towards the man who had tried to kill Ruth.  
"Pay attention," he told Barrett. "I'm going inside to pay."  
The Special Branch officer nodded and suppressed a yawn.

The door had barely closed behind Adam when a second car careened into the station. He spun around in time to see the muzzle of the semi-automatic pop out of the window and rake his car with bullets. His warning shout was drowned out by the roar of the engine, and by the time he had yanked open the door and sprinted out again, he could only squeeze off a few impotent shots at the disappearing taillights.

- 0 –

"You have to talk to him," Harry decided. She blanched, and he smiled ruefully. It seemed he was always asking her to do things that offended her moral code. Was it any wonder she couldn't make up her mind about dating him? He didn't often think about the type of man he'd become after so many years of service, of selling his soul to protect the realm. But she made him do that, and it was another of the reasons he loved her.  
"I sold him out," she said a little plaintively, but he shook his head emphatically.  
"You did your job," he stated, in that tone of voice that brooked no opposition. But she was not so easily placated.  
"Yes, and look where it's got us."  
He huffed incredulously. "You think it's only your intervention all those years ago that has brought us to this? Now that _is_ a little naïve."  
She shot him a quick glare, before looking down at the floor again, and he knew her well enough by now to see the stubborn set of her mouth. He touched the back of her hand.  
"Don't start playing the 'if only' game. There is nothing that destroys your confidence in your own decision making more swiftly than that. We make our decisions, often under huge pressure, and then we have to stand by them. You did nothing wrong all those years ago."  
"Then why does it feel that way?" she mumbled, still not looking at him.  
"Because-"  
_You are good and warm and compassionate and wonderful._  
"-you cared for him. That always complicates matters."

She looked at him then, and he was unable to hide just how well he understood his own words at that moment. Ruth wondered whether she would ever reach a stage where the depth of his feelings for her would no longer catch her by surprise. She hoped not, as warmth spread through her chest.  
"I don't know what to say to him," she admitted, and his eyes softened.  
"Be honest," he advised. "Make sure he understands that we know he is working for the Security Services in some capacity. Play on his feelings for you if you have to."  
Ruth frowned. "Why should he have feelings left for me? It was a long time ago."  
"…I should imagine you'll be hard to get over, once a person has fallen in love with you…" He trailed off, embarrassed. The words had slipped out before he could stop them, and from her shocked expression he knew that it was too much, too soon. He made to stand, but she grabbed his arm, her fingers digging almost painfully into his flesh and forcing him to look at her. What he saw in her face made him want to shout for joy.  
"After, would you like to come to mine for dinner?" The words rushed out of her, as though she was afraid she wouldn't get them out at normal speed, and he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. As he opened his mouth, his mobile rang shrilly, shattering the moment, and he reached for it with a muttered curse. He showed her the name on the screen before lifting it to his ear.  
"Adam."

- 0 –

_Twenty minutes later_

Adam sat in the car and observed the house across the street for a few minutes. It was a respectable neighbourhood, and all the houses in the street were dark and quiet. His eyes felt gritty, and the rest of him felt sticky with sweat despite the cold of the pre-dawn air. He was angry, and also a tad frightened. Ross Barrett was dead, and Harry had been suitably pissed at the news. He, Adam, had failed to protect a vital informant, and Harry had every right to be pissed. He was even angrier at himself, truth be told. Barrett should never have been left in the car to fend for himself. So now here he was, trying to set matters right. Harry's harsh words still echoed through his head.  
_Christ Al-bloody-mighty, Adam! _he had barked, _just get that tape. I don't care whether you have to break into the fucking bank to do it._  
Perhaps, he reflected, his boss wouldn't be pleased when he found out how literally Adam was about to take his suggestion, but he was too tired to care. He would cross that bridge afterwards. He opened the door and closed it softly behind him.  
"Malcolm?"  
"Comms working perfectly, Alpha One," Malcolm's tinny voice said in his ear with slight emphasis on the last two words, and Adam suppressed a flash of irritation. Malcolm and his bloody codes; it drove him crazy.  
"Security code for the front door is 5563," Malcolm continued.  
"Thanks, _Malcolm_," Adam retorted, relishing the pained sigh he got in response.

It took him exactly three minutes to pick the lock, and once inside he swiftly punched in the code on the flashing alarm panel. All the blinking lights turned green and he let out a quiet breath. "I'm in," he whispered.  
"Stairs are three paces to your left," Malcolm said, and Adam paced it off, then ascended as quietly as he could. Back on the Grid, the techie watched the thermal-scan feed carefully and when Adam was at the top of the stairs, he instructed, "Second door on your left. There are two people in bed. Our man is on the left as you enter."  
"How the hell do you know that?" Adam whispered, and Malcolm felt a thrill of satisfaction. It was good to surprise the bold field officers with his expertise every now and then.  
"Saw a picture of him and his wife – he is definitely the larger blob on the thermal."  
There was a soft huff which Malcolm took to be a laugh, and then Adam was inside the room and moving to the left side of the bed.

- 0 –

Harry watched on his monitor as Ruth entered the Interview Room. Zaf stood ready next to the man on the chair, keeping a close eye on Asif, or rather Misral, as they now knew his name to be. He felt anxious; he always did when Ruth left his immediate vicinity on an operational matter. He tried his best not to let her see that, fearing that she would interpret it as a lack of confidence in her abilities.  
Misral's eyes widened when he saw the woman enter. "Ruth?!" he exclaimed, unable to check himself, and Harry knew right then that they had a chance. As Ruth moved forward, Harry's door was yanked open violently and he swung around furiously.  
"_Not now_!" he yelled, before he saw the ashen face of Percy, his Security Officer. The man hesitated, and Harry asked in a calmer tone, "What?"  
Percy swallowed. "Mr Mace is downstairs. He knows Miss Ruth is here, and he is demanding she be brought to him."

Harry stared at Percy, all the bluster knocked out of him. His worst nightmare was about to become true, and for a second he couldn't think, couldn't speak. It lasted for only a moment, before his brain went into overdrive. The only way Mace could have found out was through Bob Hogan, and suddenly he could see it all, the big picture that had eluded him all this time.  
"Bloody Bob Hogan," he hissed viciously, and Percy blinked in alarm.  
Harry paced about for what felt an interminable amount of time, but was in reality not more than half a minute, before he suddenly stopped and turned to Percy. An almost eerie calm had settled over him as he said, "Tell Mr Mace that Ruth is here, on the Grid."  
Percy gawped at him, but Harry didn't blink, and the Security Officer nodded meekly and turned to do his master's bidding.

Once he was out of sight, Harry stooped to the small safe under his desk, and took out the handgun he kept there.

- 0 –

"Hello, Kamil," Ruth said as she took a seat opposite her former lover. She was nervous, and she knew it showed, but perhaps that would work in her favour.  
Kamil made as if to stand, but Zaf's hand fell heavily on his shoulder and he slumped back into his seat. "My name is Misbah Asif," he mumbled, but there was no conviction in the words. He stared at Ruth, and deep behind his brown eyes she could read his desperation. She felt a frisson, a memory of the excitement she had felt all that time ago when he used to gaze at her with his dark eyes, but it quickly passed, replaced by the more recent memories of a pair of brown eyes that turned the colour of burnished honey in the right light. It gave her courage.  
"Your name is Kamil, and your two sisters were killed by a suicide bomber in Pakistan. You tutored Arabic students at Oxford, and you and I were lovers for six months."  
Kamil laughed, a nervous, staccato sound. "Ridiculous," he spat.  
Ruth watched him evenly. "You have a birth-mark in the shape of an hour glass on your left buttock."  
Kamil's eyes widened and Zaf guffawed. "Shall we have a look-see, mate?" he asked gleefully, and the man's shoulders slumped. Zaf immediately picked it up, and gave Ruth a knowing look. They had him.

- 0 –

"Was it really necessary to truss the man up like a turkey?" Malcolm asked. "I mean, he's hardly likely to outrun you if he tries to escape."  
Adam glanced in the rear-view mirror at the bank manager in the back seat, hands and feet tied and a gag in his mouth. He was sweating profusely and his breathing seemed fast and shallow, but perhaps that was due to being obese.  
"Yeah, but he might fall on me," Adam responded, before turning serious again. "I don't have time to sweet-talk him."  
"Mmmwfmm," the bank manger said, wriggling around in an attempt to get more comfortable.  
"Your wife will be fine," Adam stated. "You'll be home in less than an hour if you cooperate and then you can untie her. As I tried to explain earlier before you went berserk, I mean you no harm. I work for her Majesty's government and we need your urgent assistance. A man hid a vital piece of evidence in a safe deposit box in your bank, and we need that evidence to stop some very bad people. Do you understand?" He glanced in the mirror to see a pair of large round eyes staring at him. "We will make it official as soon as business opens, but we can't wait that long, you see. We need it immediately. So will you give me your cooperation?"  
The eyes stared at him, before the head nodded eventually.  
"Good. We're here," he said as he pulled up in front of the bank.

- 0 –

Ruth and Kamil sat measuring each other, their past history lying heavily between them.  
"Kamil…" she began, but he shook his head with a rueful smile.  
"I knew I was in trouble the moment I saw you enter this building, Ruth. You are perhaps the smartest person I have ever met."  
"So you tried to have me killed?" she retorted harshly, and he blinked in surprise.  
"What are you talking about?"  
"They have tried to kill me twice now. Apparently all to protect you."  
"No! They said they would keep you away from the Grid! They never mentioned anything about-" He stopped himself, unable to say the word.  
"'They'? Who're 'they'?" Zaf asked, but Kamil ignored him.  
"I swear, I did not know. I would not have agreed to that."  
Ruth smile wryly. "You speak as though you have a choice. If you sell your soul to the devil…"  
"No. _You're_ the one who is on the side of the devil, Ruth. Me, on the other hand, I am on the side of the angels."  
The two spooks exchanged a confused look. ""What do you mean?" Ruth asked. "Who is the 'devil'?"  
Kamil sat back and watched her closely. "Harry Pearce."  
Ruth laughed incredulously. "Harry is one of the good guys. Oliver Mace, on the other hand-"  
"Is willing to do what it takes to win this war, whilst Harry Pearce hmms and haas and bleats about suspects' rights!"  
She stared at him, horrified by his anger and hatred. "This is because of what happened to your sisters. Mace took that and twisted your soul until you became his creature, eager to believe every word from his treacherous lips."  
Kamil's eyes flashed. "You may think that, but I assure you I am very much my own man. Pearce prevented the CIA from extracting five terror suspects, who could have vital information to prevent the next 9/11. Something had to be done."

The light suddenly dawned for Ruth. "If you mean the men currently incarcerated in Cotterdam prison, let me tell you that there is not a shred of evidence to be found against them. Why should we allow another extraordinary rendition on British soil, and have these men shipped off to God knows where to be tortured on the basis of no evidence whatsoever? I would think we can all agree that this is not the civilised way."  
"'Civilised way'," Kamil sneered. "They prey on that, you know. They know we are constrained by our perceived rules of civilisation, whilst they have carte blanche to act as uncivilised as they want."  
But Ruth would have none of it. "You don't save the civilised way of life by destroying it from the inside."  
He opened his mouth again but she held up a hand. "I'm not interested, Kamil. What is the plan? How will you discredit Harry Pearce?"  
He leant back in his chair and watched her through half-lidded eyes. "What time is it?"  
Zaf glanced at his watch. "Almost five in the morning," he said. "Why?"  
"Then it doesn't matter anymore. It's too late to stop it, so I might as well tell you. There is a bomb on the Grid. In my bag. It is scheduled to go off at five."

- 0 –

As Oliver Mace approached the pods, his henchmen in tow, he could see Harry stand waiting for them, his hands behind his back. That geeky techie stood slightly behind him with an anxious look on his face.  
Mace started to speak as soon as they were all through the doors.  
"Where is she, Harry? Where is Ruth Ev-"  
He swallowed the rest of the word, as he looked up to find himself staring down the ugly black hole of a gun barrel.  
"Malcolm, lock down the Grid," Harry instructed, his eyes never leaving the JIC Chairman.  
"If anyone else moves, I'll shoot Oliver."

_tbc_


	7. Chapter 7

Ruth felt, for possibly the first time in her life, pure debilitating terror.  
"You're lying," she heard Zaf say, but one look at Kamil's beatific face told her that he was not.  
"I armed it when you allowed me to get my handkerchief," he informed Zaf, who slammed his hand down on the table in anger.  
_Harry._  
Harry was on the Grid and there was a bomb about to go off. She felt as though her world was about to end.  
"No," she said, tears gathering in her eyes.  
Zaf, however, focussed on the details. "How big?" he demanded, leaning over the table threateningly.  
"Oh, big enough to destroy the Grid completely."  
"And Oliver Mace authorised this?" the young spook queried disbelievingly.  
"Well, not exactly. He ordered a small explosion that would cause minimum damage, but I made a few moderations to the plan. A small explosion would not have delivered our goal of having Harry Pearce removed from his post."  
Zaf only just resisted the urge to cause the smug bastard bodily harm. "But you can stop it," he guessed.  
Kamil looked at him, and what Zaf saw in his eyes discouraged him. Fervent belief in his cause; an almost fanatical fervour. He banged his hand down on the table again, and beside him Ruth jumped in her seat.  
"_Can you_?!" he shouted, and Kamil nodded.  
"There is a code that will disarm it, but I will never give it to you."  
With a curse Zaf swung away. "You get it out of him," he ordered Ruth before sprinting for the door.  
"Where are you going?" Ruth asked, bewildered.  
"To the Grid, to see if I can disarm it. Call me as soon as you have something."  
And then he was out the door.  
"Admirable," Kamil said with a small smile. "There aren't many men who willingly run towards a bomb."  
Ruth glared at him, and knew that if she had a gun she would seriously contemplate shooting the man in front of her. "And only cowards plant bombs that will go off long after they've departed the scene," she shot back angrily.

- 0 –

Adam stood closely behind the bank manager as he opened the safety deposit box. He was flying solo now, as Malcolm had curtly informed him that Oliver Mace had appeared and was after Ruth, and that he had to go because Harry was about to take drastic measures. He was not surprised; Harry had been on the edge ever since the accusations against Ruth had been made, and he knew that his boss was prepared to take huge risks to safeguard her. It worried him; if Harry took things too far, they might make matters worse instead of finding a solution. But then, he could hardly point fingers, as he was basically holding up a bank at the present moment. He had assured the bank manager that the warrant to access Barrett's deposit box would be delivered upon opening of business, but that of course depended on whether what was on the tape was damning enough to put an end to Mace's machinations. The bank manager wiped the sweat from his brow for the umpteenth time, and Adam glanced at him. He was concerned that the man was about to have a heart attack from the stress, and then he would have yet another death to explain. The box was opened and he looked over the manager's shoulder, ignoring the pungent smell of sweat. Inside the box was a CD in an unmarked cover, and a couple of thousand pounds.  
"Only the CD," Adam said curtly, and practically snatched it out of the man's hand. "Now, point me to the nearest computer please."

- 0 –

Malcolm swallowed and moved to the pods to follow Harry's instruction. He tapped in the code that would override the access panels and effectively lock down the Grid. They watched in silence as some of the lights went down and the computer systems flashed the message: LOCKDOWN in bright red letters.  
"Malcolm, show these other gentlemen into the meeting room and barricade the door," Harry instructed.  
A small smile flickered across Mace's lips. "Don't listen to him," he said, staring Harry down with narrowed eyes. There was a hint of arrogance in the countermand, and Harry smiled as well. A dangerous smile.  
"You think I won't do it? You think I won't shoot you?"  
"Frankly? No."  
It happened in the blink of an eye. The gun swung up and came down smartly across Mace's face, the barrel catching him above the right eyebrow. He cried out and fell to the floor, clutching his face, blood already beginning to trickle between his fingers.  
"Tempt not a desperate man, Oliver," Harry said, the gun once again squarely aimed at the man on the floor. "Now get those men into the meeting room."  
Malcolm ushered them away, and they went meekly, casting wary glances at Harry.  
When they were alone, Mace sat up gingerly. He fished a handkerchief out of his pocket and pressed it against the wound.  
"Quoting Romeo and Juliet now, Harry? My God, she must be something in bed for you to lose the plot like this. You're throwing your career away for a titillating office fling."  
"No, I'm throwing it away to prevent you and the CIA of strong-arming our leaders to throw all human rights out of the window."  
Mace looked up in surprise, and Harry continued.  
"The only way you could know that Ruth is here is if Bob Hogan had told you. I've obstructed his attempts to spirit away practically the whole Muslim population to Guantanamo and God knows what other remote corners of the globe, so he went over my head. To you."

Mace pushed himself upright gingerly and leant against the nearest desk. Bright red stains spotted his previously pristine white shirt, but Harry felt no remorse.  
"The PM and the Home Secretary didn't want to hear it," Mace explained, looking at Harry curiously. "You've got them eating out of your hand after foiling the recent coup attempt. They said they trusted your judgement."  
"So you decided to, what, discredit me? Get me dismissed?"  
"Either, actually. I'm not particular to any of those options." Harry's face darkened, and Mace felt obliged to explain. "I respect your abilities, Harry. You are a brilliant intelligence officer in most situations. But we are at war, and it is a war that requires us to sometimes do the unthinkable. Your old-fashioned moral code has no place in this new world. In fact, it's downright dangerous." He looked at Harry entreatingly. "It's not too late. Come over to us, and all will be forgiven."  
The answer was immediate. "No. I'm not interested to join anyone who is willing to kill its own for the flimsiest of reasons."  
Mace's eyes hardened. "Then you are not the right man to lead the Counter Terrorism section in these times."

Malcolm's return briefly interrupted the discussion. The techie glanced at the bloodied JIC Chairman. "At least Adam's misdemeanour pales in comparison to this," he mumbled.  
Harry frowned, and was about to ask for clarification when there was a loud bang against the pods. They all turned to see Zaf on the other side. He was agitated and out of breath as he banged on the door again.  
Harry firmly shook his head. He wouldn't drag yet another member of his team down with him; it was bad enough that Malcolm was involved.  
Zaf disappeared down the corridor but was back within seconds, a whiteboard marker in hand. He began to write on the pod, and they all watched in fascination as the letters B-M-O-B appeared one after the other.  
Malcolm's eyes widened. "Bomb," he breathed.  
They were all frozen in place for a few seconds as the implications sunk in. Harry was first to recover.  
"Get him in here," he said to Malcolm. "National security takes precedence over everything else. We need to find out where that bomb is."  
At that moment Mace's eyes fell on the sport bag on the desk opposite him, and the blood drained from his face. His voice was decidedly shaky when he said, "It's right there."

- 0 –

Kamil watched Ruth silently. It was obvious that she was highly affected by the news of the bomb on the Grid. He wondered why that was.  
"Why so worried, Ruth? There's hardly anyone up there at this time of the morning." He smiled. "Are you that fond of your computer?"  
Ruth's eyes flashed. "Is that what Mace told you? When there is a threat, there are always people on the Grid. My friends are up there."  
_And the man I adore_, she thought, but managed to keep that to herself. "So please, Kamil. Don't add murder to your list of sins."  
He paled a little at the news, and her hopes soared. "Give me the code," she pleaded softly.  
He closed his eyes momentarily. "Is Harry Pearce up there?"  
"Yes," she responded, and knew it was a mistake when she saw his face harden.  
"Then I can't, Ruth." He sat back resolutely. "I have a duty to my dead sisters. Harry Pearce and his loved ones will learn the hard way what the cost of failure in this war is."

- 0 –

Harry's eyes followed Mace's to the bag, before returning to the JIC Chairman. "How do you know?" he demanded, but Mace just looked at him. He could see from Harry's narrowed gaze that he had already guessed the truth.  
"Good God, Oliver! You authorised the planting of a bomb on the Grid?! Have you completely lost your mind?"  
By now Malcolm had carefully slid open the zipper of the bag and peered inside. He looked up with a hint of panic. "Five minutes and counting, Harry."  
Harry moved to the pods and punched in the code as he spoke. "Can you disarm it?"  
Zaf darted inside as soon as the pods opened, in time to see Malcolm shake his head in response to Harry's question. "There's not enough time to figure out how. And there's enough explosive here to destroy the whole floor and cause significant damage to the ones above."  
Harry's accusing gaze turned to Mace, who was as white as a sheet. He shook his head. "No. It was supposed to be a small explosion. Are you sure?"  
Malcolm nodded impatiently. "Of course I'm sure," he snapped.  
"Seems like your creature has developed a mind of its own, Oliver," Harry said coldly, even as he was frantically trying to think of a solution. "Zaf, evacuate as many people as you can, and tell them downstairs-"  
"You can't," Mace interjected, and Harry stared at him, coldness seeping into his veins. "What have you done?" he asks chillingly, and perspiration began to pearl on Mace's upper lip.  
"I had them seal the entire floor, so that you couldn't spirit Ruth away somehow. There's no way to get out before the bomb goes off."  
As Harry closed his eyes, Zaf peered over Malcolm's shoulder. "Misral said it could be disarmed with a code. Ruth's trying to get it out of him."  
Malcolm wiped at a bead of sweat. "Then she is our only hope."

- 0 –

Adam punched in Harry's mobile number one-handed as he slewed the car around another corner. Thankfully the streets were quiet at this time of the morning, otherwise he might have caused about five accidents by now.  
"The number you have dialled is not available," the voice intoned again and Adam cursed. It was not a good sign. He thought back to Malcolm's hurried message, and wondered what exactly Harry had done. He was about to try calling his boss again when the mobile trilled in his hand. It was an unknown number, and he frowned. He lifted it to his ear and waited, not saying anything.  
"Mr Carter? This is Percy."  
There was panic in the Security Officer's voice, and Adam pressed the accelerator down even harder.  
"Percy. Where's Harry? I can't get through to his mobile."  
"You won't. Oliver Mace arrived about half an hour ago, and ordered that the Grid and the whole floor be locked down. He instructed that it only be opened once he has Miss Evershed."  
Adam took a breath. "I'm almost there-"  
"There's more." By now Percy sounded positively distraught. "I found out which Security Officer has been helping Mace. It's Brian, and just before Mace arrived he let Mr Younis take the walk-in up with a large sports bag. I had a look at the footage – there is a bomb in that bag, and it's locked in with Mr Pearce and the rest of them somewhere on that floor."  
"Fuck," Adam said, with feeling.

Images of his wife dying in his arms, of Colin and Danny and Sophie came to the fore unbidden. He had been too late to save all of them. Every time, just a few minutes too late. And it was about to happen again. The images threatened to overwhelm him, along with the guilt and regret, and he felt as though he was drowning. His breath came faster and faster, and somewhere in the recesses of his fuddled mind he knew he was panicking, and that scared him even more. He, who had always been cool and in control, was losing his grip.  
"Mr Carter? _Adam_?!"  
Percy's voice cut through the fog and Adam blinked, to find himself parked in the middle of the street. Mercifully the panic receded, and he could breathe more easily. He pulled to the side of the road. "I'm here," he assured Percy. "Show that footage to whoever is in charge and try to get the lockdown lifted. Also tell them they will soon receive a call from the Home Secretary, and keep this line open. I'm going to put through the Home Sec's call on your mobile."

He didn't give Percy a chance to respond before disconnecting and making another call. There was quite a long wait before a groggy voice finally mumbled, "This better be good."  
"Home Secretary, this is Adam Carter. We have a crisis at Thames House." He briefly explained, before ending, "I am sending you some video footage. Look at it, and call me back immediately."

- 0 –

"Ruth," the voice in her ear said. Harry's voice, which she loved so very much. "Malcolm reckons there are enough explosives here to destroy the Grid. We can't disarm the bomb or get out of here in time – Mace has had the floor sealed off. There is four minutes left on the clock. We need that code."  
_Four minutes_?!  
There was never enough time…  
Panic rippled through her, focussed her mind as she turned to Kamil. "Congratulations. You are about to become a terrorist," she said as her eyes danced over his face. "You put enough explosive in that bag to destroy the Grid, and kill many people in the process. You know what the funny part is? The rest of your family will forever think of you as something abominable; you have become the very thing they – and you – have nurtured such hatred against all these years."  
There was a flicker behind the dark eyes – was it fear? Or, God forbid, triumph? But still he said nothing, and she knew she would have to figure it out herself.

There was nothing she could say that would persuade him to give her that code, and Harry and the others were about to die.

_tbc_


	8. Chapter 8

Ruth took a few deep breaths and closed her eyes. Ignoring the clock ticking down the seconds loudly in her head, she put herself back in her room at Oxford. She gave her memories free rein, blindly trusting that her brain would throw forward the most pertinent ones.

_It was a Sunday – she could hear the bells tolling outside – but she was snug in bed. A shaft of sunlight fell across the duvet, and for a while she lay there and watched the dust motes dance in it. She smiled, ridiculously happy and sated. Who would have thought that her decision to take Arabic would have such unexpected benefits? She could feel him wakening behind her, and the hand slung across her middle tightened momentarily against her flesh as he shifted from slumber to wakefulness. It only lasted a few seconds, though, before she felt him stiffen and the hand slid off her abruptly._  
"_Is it Sunday?" he demanded, a rough edge to his voice._  
"_Mm," she said lazily, and felt the bed dip as he suddenly got up. She rolled over and admired his lean, dark body and mumbled, "Come back to bed, Kamil."  
He swung round, and she almost recoiled at the wild, angry look in his eyes. "No! It is the 12__th__ of May today."  
He must have seen her reaction, as he added more calmly, "I'm sorry. There's somewhere I have to be."  
She watched, perplexed and a little disquieted, as he threw on his clothes with jerky movements and strode out the door, before abruptly deciding to follow him. She ignored the little voice in her head that told her that it was her own insecurities that made her distrust him._

Ruth opened her eyes and quickly glanced at her watch. _One minute_.  
"Harry. Try permutations of the date 12 May 1981."  
She looked straight at Kamil as she talked to Harry, and saw his eyes widen in surprise.

- 0 –

**120581**  
ERROR  
_Forty seconds_

**051281**  
ERROR  
_Thirty-five seconds_

"Harry?" Her voice sounded small and his heart broke. They could have sorted it out; they could have had a future.  
"Yes, Ruth." He kept the rage and fear he felt out of his voice. He didn't want the last words she heard from him to be coloured with those emotions.  
"I would really like a second date," she said softly, and he heard her voice catch.

**810512**  
ERROR  
_Twenty seconds_

He smiled sadly. "Me too," he murmured, focussing on her breathing and blocking out everything else. He wanted it to be the last sound he heard, if it were to end today.  
"Try alpha-numeric," Zaf suggested, vaguely aware that Mace had buried his face in his hands.

**12may81**  
ERROR  
_Ten seconds_

"There are too many permutations!" Malcolm said despairingly as his hands began to shake. Zaf put a calming hand on his shoulder and gave him a reassuring nod. "You have time," he said, and the trust in his eyes galvanised Malcolm. He tried one more time.

**May1281**

They all stared at the counter, hoping for a miracle. Harry was aware of Ruth's breathing in his ear, and memories of earlier flooded him. He felt again her lips under his, her soft flesh pressed against his chest, and he was about to close his eyes when he realised.  
"It's stopped."

_Six seconds_

It flashed over and over, before it gave a discreet beep and the display changed.

DISARMED

Harry finally closed his eyes.

- 0 –

Zaf whooped and bounded around the office, unable to contain the nervous energy that had built up any longer. "Malcolm, you star! You absolute bloody superstar!" he yelled, grabbing the man in question from behind and enveloping him in a bear-hug.  
Malcolm didn't say a word; he was frozen, unable to tear his eyes from the device.  
"Malcolm?" Zaf queried, letting go and observing his colleague with a frown. "It's over, you did it."  
"Get some whisky into him," Harry ordered, recognising the symptoms of delayed shock quicker than the others. Perhaps because his own hands had a slight tremble in them. He took a few breaths. "Ruth?" He didn't mean for his voice to turn quite so soft and warm, but he could not control it. He was still alive, _she_ was still alive, and now they had a chance. "It worked. Your code worked. The bomb has been disarmed. Well done."  
She made an indistinct noise, and he wasn't sure whether she was laughing or crying at the other end of the comms. He would find out later, because now they had time. First, he had other fish to fry.

He turned the full force of his attention towards Mace, and the wrath in his eyes made the JIC Chairman swallow. Mace glanced around, but there was no help to be had.  
"Now, Harry-" he began, but Harry would not hear it.  
"Shut up." He didn't raise his voice, but the words cut across the Grid and everyone froze. "There is nothing you can say that will justify what happened here today. Or the plot to kill our best analyst for the paltry reason that she knew your stooge. You are finished, Oliver. I will personally see to it that you are banished to the ends of the earth for this."  
Mace licked his lips nervously, but he was beginning to rally and was not quite willing to give up without a fight. "You can't prove that I had anything to do with it," he challenged with more bravado than he really felt, and Harry's eyes flashed dangerously.  
He was about to respond when a voice behind them said, "Actually, he can."

They swung around in surprise, to find Adam, Jo and Nicholas Blake standing inside the open pods.  
"This floor is supposed to be sealed off," Mace said, caught off-guard.  
"I ordered it unsealed," the Home Secretary snapped. "You do remember that I out-rank you, don't you, Mr Chairman?"  
"You found it?" Harry asked Adam, ignoring the glaring contest between Mace and Blake for the moment.  
Adam grinned. "I did." He stepped to the nearest computer and inserted a CD. The screen came alive to the image of two men sitting on a park bench. The camera zoomed in until Mace and Kamil Misral were clearly identifiable.  
_We need to get rid of Harry Pearce_, Mace said on the video, before laying out his plan to get a bomb on the Grid.  
All eyes turned to the real Mace, and he looked down, resigned to his fate.

- 0 –

_Later_

He found her on the roof.  
The first rays of the sun painted the windows of the skyscrapers around them orange, and she lifted her face to their tentative warmth. She was alive, _Harry_ was alive, and together with the team they had thwarted another attempt on the integrity of the Service.  
It felt good.  
She sensed his presence even before he settled himself next to her, leaning on the railing and looking out over the slowly wakening city. He had left a tiny gap between them and she shifted slightly, until her arm was pressed against his. His warmth seeped through their layers of clothes and into her bloodstream, and she smiled.  
_Alive._  
It was Harry that eventually broke the silence. "How did you get the code out if Misral?"  
"… I didn't."  
He turned to her, surprised, and she looked down at her hands with a small frown.  
"I figured it out." She told him of the Sunday morning she had followed Misral, convinced that he was stepping out on her, only to find that he was visiting the graves of his sisters. "He spoke to them; promised them that they would be avenged. I watched-, no, I _spied _on him from behind a tree, and I had never before seen such naked hatred in someone's face. After that I did some digging, and found out that they were killed in a suicide bomb attack in 1981, on the 12th of May."  
She lifted her gaze to him then. "Pathetic, isn't it? To be so insecure that one would follow your boyfriend, and then quietly dig up information on him rather than just asking him."  
But Harry shook his head immediately. "No. You could sense that something was amiss and you did what was necessary to get the information you needed." A proud smile flickered around the corners of his mouth. "Like I said, a born spook."

She searched his face, looking for any hint that he was simply placating her, but found nothing but genuine admiration. And something else, something that she was not quite ready to name yet.  
"What will happen to Mace?" she asked, and he sighed and looked away over the city.  
"This whole episode will have to be covered up. It would be a crippling body-blow to the Service if any of it got out. We are already struggling to hold onto the trust of the general public." He added with genuine regret, "He'll walk away a free man. As long as he agrees to leave the country quietly, he won't be prosecuted. I'm sorry, Ruth."  
She nodded slowly. "And Kamil?"  
Harry watched her carefully. "He could come in handy in future, if we can win his trust. What do you think?"  
"I… think that's a good idea." She caught a flash of something in his eyes, and it took her a moment to place it. Possessiveness. A hint of worry.  
"I have no lingering feelings for him," she blurted before she could stop herself, and could feel her skin flushing in embarrassment.  
A similar flush crept up Harry's neck as he realised that she had just read him like a book, and he cleared his throat. "Well. That's good to know."  
"Yes."  
They stood in awkward silence, looking everywhere but at each other, before Harry bravely stepped into the breach. "So, about that second date…?"  
She released a relieved breath. "Friday evening? Dinner at mine?" she invited boldly.  
He was stunned for a moment, his mind awash with images of the two of them on her sofa, closely entwined and kissing passionately, and hurriedly said, "I'd love to."  
His voice sounded hoarse, and she turned her full attention on him then, and gave him a knowing look, and he didn't even try to fight the urge to kiss her. He simply pulled her to him gently, and when she didn't resist, he lowered his lips to hers.

- 0 –

Malcolm made sure to make a lot of noise as he pushed open the door to the roof. He found them standing close together, gazing at each other, and he pretended not to notice Ruth's kiss-swollen lips.  
"Harry, they need you downstairs."  
Harry straightened and nodded, and shifted his mind back to work with some effort. "See you later," he murmured softly at her and she smiled, and gently touched his hand. "I'll be down in a few minutes."

As he turned to follow Malcolm, Harry suddenly remembered something. "Malcolm, what did you mean by that comment earlier about Adam's 'misdemeanour'?"  
The techie was caught unawares, and started to stutter. "I, er, he, I mean to say, uh, well you see, erm… Oh! I hear my phone ringing."  
He bolted away down the stairs, and Harry stared after him in alarm. "Malcolm!" he called, striding after the fleeing man. Ruth's low, warm laugh followed him down the stairs, and he couldn't suppress his own smile.

The future suddenly seemed a lot more promising.

_Fin_

_Thank you kindly for all the lovely reviews. _


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